Cooler Than Me
by mediumdripsandcourvoisiershots
Summary: Sam Evans is the new kid at McKinley. Kurt won't be fooled by his boyish charm. How can Sam win the Ice Princess over?
1. Encounters

**Dear Gaga.**

**I'm so bad. Haven't updated anything in months.**

**Oh well...**

**Anyway. I wasn't gonna publish this until I had all the chapters finished, because, y'know, I'm a terrible procastinator.**

**But I got antsy...so...here it is.**

**Inspired by - Cooler Than You - Mike Posner

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Sam Evans.

That's what the tall blonde in the front of Mr. Schuester's second period Spanish class introduced himself as. Kurt lowered his Gucci sunglasses and started evaluating the transfer student.

His eyebrow arched as his eyes flicked up and down the new boy's body, taking everything in. His posture was relaxed, with a backpack carelessly slung over his shoulder, a lazy smile plastered on his face.

_Typical jock stature, _Kurt thought with disdain.

_Just another Neanderthal just to add to this cow town. Just what I need._

His hair was insanely blond, bringing out the gold flecks in his brown eyes. The blonde was _definitely_ from a box, or even worse, some home remedy. Kurt shuddered at the thought, taking note of the tiny split ends and dirty blonde roots. That and the fact that _no one_ was _that_ blonde. All the same, Kurt took in his tan and muscular build, his eyes raking over the tall jock.

He wasn't bad looking. At all.

But, just like every other male in this Podunk town, his fashion sense left so much to be desired. He was wearing a plain gray T-Shirt. A _T-Shirt!_ With _wrinkles!_ And it was probably made out of extremely cheap cotton. And to top it all off, he was wearing some ridiculous letterman jacket from his old school. _Blue and gold _were their school colors. Blue. And. Gold. The countertenor felt like vomiting on his textbook.

He managed to keep down the contents of his breakfast and turned his attention to the rest of the details.

He was tall. Not as freakishly tall as Finn, of course, but plenty tall compared to average standards. And even though Kurt hated to admit it, he had huge lips. Full and voluptuous, pouty even. It looked so strange on the jock, so out of place, Kurt would've chuckled darkly to himself if it wasn't for the intense gaze he was currently under.

The gazer being the one and only Sam Evans.

Out of the twenty-five people in the Spanish class, the busty Cheerios and scantily dressed whores, Sam had to focus his attention on a certain flamboyant teen.

Under normal circumstances, the person would squirm under the unwanted attention, maybe try to get the person to focus on another subject.

But then again, Kurt Hummel never strode for normal.

The fashionista pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow, moving his head a bit; a gesture he had picked up from Santana.

Sam quirked an eyebrow, a bemused expression crossing his face.

Kurt's eyebrows would've flown straight up to his hairline if it wasn't the cocky expression he was so desperately trying to keep on his face.

_And you would've thought he would have made a threat by now. _

The threats, Kurt decided, and possible slushie, would be passed out after class, in the hall, most likely. Might as well do something productive in class instead of staring at his future tormentor.

Kurt broke his pose and looked down at his book, finishing up a few problems and pretending as if Sam Evans didn't even exist.

Kurt busied himself with the verb worksheet as Mr. Schuester instructed Sam to go find a seat. You could almost hear the excitement from the girls, sitting up straighter in their seats, fixing their hair and staring lustfully at the tall blonde. Kurt rolled his eyes.

_Pathetic._

Kurt doodled aimlessly on his paper, half waiting for one of the girls to hit the floor in a faint, but instead was greeted by the sound of a chair being pulled back from the desk next to him.

Kurt dared to look over to his left, his eyes widening. Sam plopped down in the chair, scooting back in and throwing Kurt a huge smile.

"Hey."

The countertenor drew in a sharp breath and composed himself, giving the taller blonde a bored look.

_Two can play at that game._

"Hello, _Sam._" He replied, sarcasm dripping his words. "Pleasure to have you at McKinley. I'm sure we'll get to know each other _very_ well through my daily dumpster dives and slushie facials, so you can skip the warm and fuzzy introductions and actually try to pass this class." He eyes him up and down, ignoring the insanely confused look on Sam's face. "By the looks of it, you're just like the rest of the Nandethreals in this town, so you'll need all the help you can get. Might as well try and access _some_ sort of intelligence in that pea brain of yours. Have a nice day." He finished curtly, biting back a smirk as Sam furrowed his eyebrows next to him, trying to figure out what the _heck_ just happened.

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt quickly put an index finger up to his lips and pointed to Mr. Schuester, mouthing slowly, as if speaking to a child. _ Pay attention._

He caught Sam looking around the room, looking more confused than when Finn figured out he had to separate the laundry _before_ putting it in the washing machine. He allowed himself to smirk cockily while Sam's back was turned.

_Guess I win this one, Evans._

Some people just needed to be shown who was going to be on top.

A shrill bell cut through Mr. Schuester's Spanish lesson on correct sentence structure, and Kurt wasted no time darting out of the classroom.

Unfortunately, Sam was quick, too.

"Hey…dude." Sam came up from behind Kurt, walking beside him, easily keeping up with Kurt's brisk pace.

"Do _not_ call me dude." Kurt snapped, his eyes never leaving the end of the hall. "And at least take some time to learn my name. You know what? Better yet? Stop trying to talk to me. There will be _plenty _of that after school. I'm sure Karofsky has you slotted for my 3:15 dumpster dive."

Sam almost stopped walking, dumbfounded by the ice in the smaller teen's words. He was a sarcastic one. A quick thinker.

"What? Du-I mean, what are you talking about?" The blonde stood behind Kurt as he twirled his lock, opening his locker and grabbing some hairspray.

"Don't play stupid, Evans. Now run along. You don't want to catch the _gay_." He pouted his lips at his reflection in his locker mirror and sprayed the hairspray generously over his perfect hair, 'accidentally' spraying Sam in the process.

Sam coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. "W-What are you _talking_ about? I just wanted t-to introduce myself." Sam tried to explain between coughs.

Kurt slammed the locker closed, spinning on his heel and looking Sam in the eyes, his lips pressed together.

"Fine. You have 38 seconds to talk." The countertenor said defiantly.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly spoke. "Okay, I'm Sam Evans, I'm uh, from New York, I play football, and I um…play guitar. And kind of sing. And I just thought I'd say hi. Because…I'm new…and stuff…" He trailed off, trying to think of more things to say.

"Time's up." Kurt said, referring to his iPhone. "That was thrilling. Singing, eh? Too bad you're too much of a chicken to join glee club." He quirked an eyebrow, looking him over again.

"Glee club? What…? Wait!" Sam followed Kurt as he sauntered down the hall. "I never caught your name!"

Kurt threw a prissy look behind his shoulder at the tall teen. "Just ask Karosfky about the _fairy_. They'll have _plenty _to say about me."

And just like that, Kurt Hummel was gone, leaving a very confused and awed Sam Evans in his wake.

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**Ice Queen!Kurt is insanely fun to write. But anyway.**

**Questions, comments, concerns, advice, critique? It all helps me be the best writer I can be.**

**Please review! It helps me and makes me INSANELY happy.**


	2. Experiences

**A/N: Oh crap. I'm so sorry. I meant to update this, I really did. I had the chapter all ready to go and stuff...but you see...I'm in theater crew and I have honors and AP classes, and between homework and theater and school and SLEEPING, it was kind of hard to update. I've also had a few personal family issues...if you follow me on Twitter/Tumblr you know what I'm talking about.  
Anyway, I'm really sorry about the wait!  
I've also noticed that over 50 people subscribed to this story. I'm BEYOND psyched about this! You guys are the freaking best!  
I was just kind of disappointed that only like 10% of readers reviewed, but...hey. I'm not one to complain.  
Reviews make my day 10000x better, and a well-written, (psh. heck. make it a word or two. I don't care) review always makes me want to write more!  
I take constructive criticism as well! I'm an aspiring author, and you guys can help me get there!  
Okay. Enough with the freaking long Author's Note.  
STORY TIME KIDDIES.

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"No, honey. I'm not telling you that blue isn't your color, I'm telling you that it really doesn't flow with that watch."

"Do I _need_ to comment on that skirt?"

"It's a kilt. Not a skirt."

The glee clubbers were watching Kurt and Mercedes bicker about fashion with mild interest, waiting for Mr. Schuester to arrive.

Everyone let out a quite audible sigh of relief when their teacher walked through the door, clapping his hands together in that oh-so-familiar way. But he wasn't alone.

Trailing behind him was the one and only Sam Evans.

"Alright guys!" Mr. Schue started, completely missing Kurt's horrified look. "This is Sam Evans, as most of you probably know. He's a fresh new face here at McKinley, and our newest member of New Directions!"

Brittany's eyes widened, staring at Sam with fascination. "My sister's in love with your brother…I should bring you home."

The club exchanged confused glances, letting Brittany stump them yet again.

Santana whispered something in Brittany's ear after a few awkward seconds, making the blonde brighten in realization.

"Oh! Haven't you guys figured it out yet?" She tilted her head, pointing at Sam. "Guys, it's Justin Bieber's twin."

Kurt laughed shamelessly, not bothering to cover it up with a cough like Quinn so gracefully did.

Sam blushed lightly, looking more confused than ever. "I'm actually not Justin-" His statement was cut off by Finn, who was shaking his head in pity. "Don't even try to understand it, dude. Just go with it." He shrugged, glancing at Brittany, who was twirling a strand of golden hair around her pinky.

Sam shrugged it off, awkwardly walking over and taking a seat.

Right next to Kurt.

Kurt stiffened, silently cursing Brittany for not sitting next to him today.

"Hey…" Sam whispered lowly to Kurt, who resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The small countertenor ignored him, directing his attention to Mr. Schue, who was explaining the assignment for the week.

"Expression." He wrote the word on the board, not even bothering to ask the club what the word meant. Brittany had already contributed her offhand comment for the day. "Sometimes, there are things we can't express with words. Can anyone tell me what are some ways you can express yourself without speaking?"

Kurt raised his hand, glancing at Sam from his peripheral vision.

"Kurt." Mr. Schue called on him, pointing the marker at the small teen.

"Art, dance, and, of course, fashion." He smirked, doing his signature handshake with Mercedes.

Mr. Schuester smiled in approval, walking around the room. "Right. There are dozens of ways you can express yourself without speaking, but the most powerful way, obviously, is singing." He smiled at the club. "That is why your assignment for the week is to sing your feelings, express yourself to another, or just to yourself." Mr. Schuester finished, clapping his hands together. "Dismissed."

Kurt quickly grabbed his messenger bag and Mercedes's hand, dragging her out of the choir room and linking their arms together.

"I was thinking we could do something with Faith Hill…ooh…even Celine Dion…" Kurt rambled on, trying to distract Mercedes and get as far away from Sam as possible. He had _just_ gotten these boots. He'd like to keep them dumpster and slushie free.

Mercedes stopped in the middle of his brisk walking, causing him to skid to a halt. "Alright white boy. Tell me what's up."

Kurt sighed. Nothing could get past her. "You know that new kid? Sam?"

Mercedes groaned. "Boy, _please_ don't tell me it's another crush. I can't handle another episode like that."

"What?" The flamboyant teen's face was horror stricken; he shook his head furiously. "No, no, _no_. He's scheming with Azimo and Karofsky. He's sitting next to me in all of our classes we have together, he's _talking_ to me…"

"Kurt, did it ever cross your mind that he was trying to be, oh I don't know…_friendly_?" His best friend stared at him incredulously.

Kurt shook his head again, pursing his lips together. "No, no. Hear me out. He tries to befriend me, get me to fall for him or something, then when I'm least expecting it, he'll turn on me, and I will be a broken little gay child, the perfect target for Neanderthals like Karofsky."

"I highly doubt this is all part of some master scheme for them to hurt you. They aren't able to formulate a plan beyond, 'eat food, throw kid in dumpster, sleep in bed.' If Sam talks to you, then _go and be nice to him_. Who knows? The kid may be traveling down the squiggly line of sexuality." She winked, laughing. "And besides, who _wouldn't_ want that hunk of eye candy as a friend? Most girls at this school would probably murder you if they heard Sam was talking to you."

Kurt rolled his eyes, walking towards the parking lot. "Oh please. I could take all of those girls with a hand tied behind my back." He smirked, pushing the doors open, breathing in the fresh scent of fall. "And besides, I don't like Sam. He's such a typical _guy._ He's just like Finn, and we all know how well _that_ went…"

Mercedes's expression went soft, remembering Kurt calling her that night, almost impossible to understand, his words garbled by sobs. She remembered him standing strong, even though his world was collapsing, telling her that he was over Finn Hudson once and for all, not ifs, ands, or buts about it. Even through his tears, his sorrows, he stood up for himself.

"Honey…you don't know that. He could be a legitimate nice guy." She tried to explain, walking slowly over to her car.

"Mercedes, I can't. I'm done crushing on the straight guys, and getting my heart broken. Maybe there'll be somebody down the road, but definitely not here." He unlocked his baby, pulling the door open and climbing in. He rolled down the window, backing up. "I'll text you tonight."

Mercedes sighed and got into her own car, driving the opposite direction.

"Boy got himself into one hot mess."

Kurt laid on his bed, flipping through the newest edition of _Vogue_, when his phone vibrated next to him, the trademark iPhone twinkle pulling him out of the fashion magazine. He groaned internally, picking up the phone, slightly pissed off. Blame the mood swings due to _someone_. Kurt thought bitterly, checking his phone. It was a text from a number he didn't recognize. It simply said "hey".

_Not in the mood to play games._

Kurt quickly tapped back a message, setting his beloved _Vogue_ down on the nightstand.

**Who is this?**

_**who do u think this is?**_

**Somebody who's about to be very sad when I trace your number, find out who you are, and then report you for harassment.**

_**jeez. They werent lying when they said u had claws**_

Kurt rolled his eyes. Why people didn't have better things to do than this was beyond him.

**Pulling the computer out now…**

_**wait! dont do that.**_

**And why shouldn't I? You refuse to reveal your identity.**

_**Its sam.**_

Kurt's heart just about stopped. How the _heck_ did he get his number? And more importantly, why was he texting _him_ of all people?

**How did you get this number? And why are you bothering me with your incessant chatter?**

_**hudson. And dude, dont say big words like that. :P**_

Kurt made a mental note to murder Finn later.

**Well Finn IS an idiot. And why not? Don't understand?**

_**Im dyslexic. Huge words like that get all mixed up n crap.**_

Kurt almost felt guilty. _Almost._

**That's no excuse to be illiterate.**

_**have a heart dude.**_

**So sorry. Last time I 'had a heart', people decided to rip it out, step on it, pull it apart, and then set it on fire.**

_**…dude im sorry…**_

**Why are YOU sorry? You weren't even here when that all happened. The past can't be changed, I've learned. Why do you even care?**

_**Cuz ur cool. And the girls r starting to freak me out, thb.**_

Kurt's lips twitched at the small little typo. So he _is_ dyslexic. He was never going to live this one down.

**It's 'TBH'. To be honest. And yes, what a work of 'art' girls are. Don't worry. You'll find a marvelous one. Just don't touch Fabray or Berry, unless you like getting your face pounded in. And I don't think any normal person would want to touch Rachel with a twelve foot pole. But then again, you probably aren't a normal person, and not in the special kind of way that we are. Wait…why am I helping you? Go ahead. Go after Quinn. Your death will be fun to watch.**

_**Dude calm down. I just wanted to talk.**_

**I thought we 'talked' in the hallway earlier today?**

_**I don't even know wut that was. R u antisocial or something. U dont seem to like people. And not to be mean or anything, but people don't really like u either.**_

**Newsflash Evans. They don't hate me because I'm antisocial, which I'm not. They hate me because I'm gay. You should be able to understand. High school Nandethreals are all the same. Homophobic, bullying, stupid bastards. Now you can go off and hate me forever since I just basically came out. As if it wasn't obvious enough. I'm sure we'll be able to exchange pleasant chatter while you're dropping me in the dumpster.**

_**Im not like that…**_

**I'm sure you aren't.**

_**Im not. why would I leave u just bcuz ur different?**_

**Just stop Sam. Seriously. This is getting really pathetic. I'm not going to fall for your little 'plan', so you should just stop the charade now. Save some of your precious popularity.**

_**there is no plan! I just wanted a friend.**_

How pathetic.

**You really think the pity thing is going to work? Sam, you don't need me as a friend, I can tell you that up front. There are hundreds of girls that practically faint every time you walk past. You're the type of jock that gets all the popularity and friends. Just leave me alone, alright? I don't like to be used.**

_**Im not using u! how can I prove it to you?**_

**This is getting really pathetic. Can we just stop? I have a lot of homework, I'm not even halfway through Vogue, and I still have my moisturizing routine to worry about.**

_**Don't be like this…**_

**Bye Sam.**

_**Wait…I never did catch your name…**_

If Kurt wasn't worried about messing up his forehead with oil from his hand, he would have slapped himself. How _didn't_ he know his name? That's all those stupid jocks talk about in the locker room. Although they didn't ever use his first name; it was more like "Gotta go beat up the fairy after this.", or 'Hummel'. At least it wasn't princess. The only person who called him that was Puck, and even if Kurt would never admit it out loud, he kind of liked it.

As much as you can like something without it being romantic.

Kurt stared at the phone, the cursor almost mockingly blinking.

_Well maybe this way I'll get called by my first name for once when I'm getting hit in the face with a slushie._

He sent the four letter word to Sam, putting down his phone and going about the room, cleaning up.

**Kurt.**

_**:) thanks.**__**

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**_**Why yes. I did put slight Purt in my story. That is because I am slightly crazy. That is okay.  
My OTP is Kinn, but I don't know. I just love Purt so much.**

**DON'T EAT ME.**

**IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, I KNOW.**

**BUT IT'S HOT.**

**That is all.**

**Random topic change.**

**It was longer (i think) than the first chapter, so...yeah. Hope you liked it!**

**Review please! It really does make me want to write more! **


	3. Entourages

**Sorry it's a tad short! I wrote three chapters, so expect a whole bunch more in the next couple of days.  
I really apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I'm involved with theater crew, and I've had absolutely _no_ free time for the past few weeks. But now I can hopefully settle down and write a ton before the next play starts up.  
Enjoy~!  
Disclaimer: Do I even need to put this here?

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Tuesday was more awkward than the day before, seeing as how Glee club ran until 6, meaning Kurt was stuck with Sam for even more time. The blonde boy was always trying to talk to Kurt, asking him questions in class and catching up in the hallways with him. Kurt was more than fed up with him by the end of the day. He just wanted to be left alone. Just his luck, that the hottest guy in school was trying to be his friend, and Kurt was in a pissy mood.

"Honey, what's wrong? You haven't been this moody since you found out McQueen passed away…" Mercedes whispered next to him, concern painting her face.

"Sam Evans is what's wrong. He won't leave me alone!" Kurt retorted, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"I told you…give him a chance." She tried to explain, sighing. Kurt had always been insanely stubborn.

"I already told you. I refuse to be the butt of the jock's jokes." Kurt swore softly under his breath, looking up. "Speak of the devil…"

Sam loped over, taking a seat next to the fuming teen. "Hey Kurt. Mercedes." He nodded in the diva's direction, causing her to smile.

Kurt curtly nodded at Sam, glaring daggers at Mercedes, who beamed in return.

"If you don't mind Sam, I was just discussing some _personal_ matters with Mercedes." Kurt strained to be at least a bit polite, for Mercedes's sake.

"Actually…we're done. I need to talk some things over with Santana. Play nice, boys." She smirked, ignoring Kurt's icy glare.

"But Mercedes…I-I…I _really_ need to talk to you about something. It's _really_ important." He begged through gritted teeth.

"I'm sure Sam would be more than happy to help you." She replied, a huge smile plastered on her face as she walked away, plopping herself down next to Santana.

Kurt glared after her, stunned that she had left him next to the one person he did _not_ feel like talking to.

"So…Kurt…" Sam started, using that stupid silky smooth voice Kurt hated so much.

"Sam, I'm going to stop you right there." He held up his hand, cutting off the other boy's speech. "I do _not_ want to talk about anything with you. No, I don't want to share my problems or my feelings. I don't want to talk about sports, or Avatar, or whatever else you feel like you need to share with me. I've already made it perfectly clear that we aren't meant to be friends, and if you want to save whatever sliver of popularity you have left, stop. Talking. To. Me."

"I…" Sam looked genuinely upset. Kurt felt a flicker of guilt, but pushed it back down, remembering how if he wanted to save some of his dignity, he couldn't fall for Sam's tricks. Even if those tricks meant that the blonde looked like a kicked puppy.

"I'm not giving up, I hope you know." And with that sentence, any trace of sadness disappeared on his face and was replaced with a big smile.

Kurt groaned, standing up. "You'd better look forward to spending eternity chasing after me. I've been known to be the most cold-hearted person here at McKinley. Well…maybe not. There's always Karofsky and Azimo, but I'm sure you're already best friends with them by now."

"What? No…what are you talking about?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"I'm done with the games, Sam. Give it up. You're exhausting both of us." Kurt sighed, walking out of the room just as the 6 o'clock bell rang.


	4. Entrapment

**Just because the last one was so short...

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Sam groaned, landing on his bed face-first. This past week had been nothing like what he had expected. He had met the guy of his dreams, and just his luck, he didn't want to have anything to do with him. He had used every trick he had, but Kurt would have none of it. Sam was frustrated and beyond confused at the time. Coming from an all-boys boarding school, he had experience with guys. Or, he'd like to think he did. He was always too scared to come out to his peers, but he did know how they acted and what they liked. He had never had a boyfriend, but he always had girls drooling over him.

It sucked. Big time.

When his dad informed him that they were going to be moving to this itty bitty town of Lima, Ohio, he jumped on the chance to start a new life. He was going to stop being the class dork, and learn to be the popular jock, the quarterback, tons of friends, the whole deal. He could last three years without telling anyone he was gay. He could always cover it up with a claim that his parents wouldn't let him date, or that he had an imaginary girlfriend back in New York. It was a foolproof plan. He started working out even harder, turning his lightly outlined abs into a set of Super Sam Abs, as he liked to call them.

When he arrived at McKinley for the first day, he was beyond ready for his new life. That was, until his eyes landed onto a seemingly perfect angel in Spanish class. He isn't the mushy gushy romantic type, but when he first saw Kurt, thinking was impossible. He could only focus on the tiny teenager before him, working absentmindedly on a paper. His hair was perfectly in place, his skin was perfect and pale, resembling the porcelain dolls his grandma always had on display. His clothes took Sam off guard though. He looked like he had just stepped out from an issue of Vouge, with his weird sweater thing and boots. Sam's eyes widened even further when he noticed that he was wearing a _skirt_. He had to say, he was really working it, and it turned him on a _lot_. When Kurt looked up, Sam's breath was stolen away, literally. He could only focus on those _eyes_. They were like two crystals framed by thick, gorgeous lashes, as cliché as it sounded. They were a mix of green and blue, and Sam wasn't completely sure on what color they were. All he knew that he was looking into the face of perfection. And perfection apparently was staring back at him. He plastered a grin on his face, not breaking his gaze upon the boy. Sam didn't believe in love at first sight, but now he was staring to rethink his beliefs. Butterflies were having a field day in Sam's stomach as Kurt scrutinized him, pushing up his sunglasses, hiding his beautiful eyes from Sam. He almost looked like he was trying to be cocky. Sam smiled even wider at his action. He was feisty. He was really turning out to be the guy of his dreams.

After that, it kind of all went downhill. He learned that Kurt was _not_ one to be messed with, and he was truly the Ice Princess. He had a talented way of making Sam feel useless and unwanted, even though Sam fell for him harder with every word he spoke to him.

So Sam decided to ask around about the fashionista, gathering information about him. He had learned by the end of the day that he was, in fact, in Glee club, was apparently pretty talented, but nobody seemed to like him. Sam heart soared, almost regretfully, when the first word that everyone seemed to associate Kurt with was "gay". There were a few threats on Kurt's safety, though, from some meathead jocks, and Sam made extreme mental notes to stay away from them.

Sam also learned more about the town, to his dismay. It seemed as though this was another homophobic, conservative town. Coming out to Kurt was going to be way tougher than he first thought expected it to be. He didn't know what he was thinking in the first place, to be honest. Apparently to dump his reputation, make Kurt his, and live happily ever after.

Now he was starting to rethink his options.

Kurt was close, if not there already, to hating him. He would always scoot away and groan every time he came near him, pretended he didn't exist, and go on these whole icy rants on how he was 'not going to be the joke anymore'.

It made no sense to Sam. From what he had gathered, the boy had never had a boyfriend, or even someone who liked him. Why would he be rejecting the one person who had an interest in? It wasn't like Sam wasn't attractive or repulsive. It's not like the tortured Kurt, not like he threw slushies in his face or tossed him in the dumpster. He was fairly sure that this was the nicest a guy had ever acted to Kurt. So why was he rejecting him? It didn't make sense to Sam at all.

He stared up at his ceiling, contemplating texting him again, to apologize, to talk to him, to _anything_. He just wanted to make sure he didn't completely hate him. He picked up his phone, scrolling through the texts he had saved from Kurt.

_Maybe it has to do with his 'holier than thou' act he always puts up,_ Sam thought. The fashionista always was going around acting like he was better than everyone else, even if no one else thought he was. It was an admirable quality in some instances; Sam would never be able to stand up and be that proud, but it was just plain annoying in Sam's case. If he would just come down to earth for a few seconds and realize that there is a boy that actually likes him and would love nothing more than to date him, maybe Sam would have a chance.

But, obviously, thinks weren't going Sam's way.

He knew how he might win him over, though. The Glee club assignment.

He had picked up that Kurt was dramatic; heck, he knew from the first second he met him. He loved singing, too. So maybe, Sam could win him over with a song. He had no idea what song he was going to sing, but he needed to figure it out fast. He had under two days to figure out the guitar chords and lyrics, and practice it a few times to perfect the tone he was trying to convey to Kurt.

He clicked on his radio, hoping for some kind of inspiration, when he was struck with the perfect song.

Literally.

"SAM EVANS. IF I FIND OUT YOU WERE IN MY ROOM ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR I WILL CASTRATE YOU." His 14 year old sister, Lily, screamed at him, hitting him square in the head with her Mike Posner CD. She stomped off, muttering something to herself.

Sam rubbed his head, picking up the CD case, turning it over to look at the songs. He scanned over the list, beaming when he came to a particular song.

He had found his song.


	5. Excitement

**This story has gotten an insane amount of alerts/favorites, but not enough reviews! (I'm greedy, I know).  
I love to hear back from you guys...so how's about it?  
****Oh...and also, just saying now, I take oneshot requests, any pairing, I'm best at angst and crap like that.  
Annnnnnd I'll take ideas for the next chapters~!**

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"Who wants to go first?" Mr. Schuester said, looking around the room, pretending he didn't see Rachel's hand shoot up.

"Mr. Schue, as the captain of this club, and the most talented, I think that I should start us off. My talent would provide a perfect opening, and give you all something to measure up to." She said matter-of-factly, standing up.

"Actually, Rachel…I think you should go last." Mr. Schuester rushed onward when he noticed Rachel's horrified expression. "Save the best for last, right?"

She nodded furiously, smiling at Finn, who was lost in thought about who knows what. "Of course. I would stay fresh in everyone's minds. I want to make as much of an impression as I can before I depart with you to go onto Broadway."

"My fist would love to make an impression on you." Santana glared at her, cocking an eyebrow.

"Actually…Mr. Schue, I've got something." Sam raised his hand, grabbing his guitar from behind his chair.

"That's great!" Mr. Schue smiled, standing off to the side. "Go right ahead."

Sam nervously walked up to the front of the club, swinging the guitar over his shoulder and placing his fingers in the correct positions. He took a deep breath and glanced at Kurt, who was absorbed in looking at his nails. "I'd like to dedicate this to someone who's…really special to me. I don't think they got my message…and this is the only way I could think of expressing myself."

He smiled, nodded to the band, and started strumming his guitar, singing the first notes with a huge smirk on his face.

_If I could write a song to make you fall in love, I would already have you up under my arm, I used up all of my tricks, I hope you like this._

_ But you probably won't, you cooler than me._

_ You got designer shades just to hide your face, and you wear 'em around like you're cooler than me._

_And you never say "Hey" and "Remember my name."_

_It's probably cause you think you're cooler than me._

The whole Glee club smiled, cheering him on and dancing in their seats to the beat. He didn't miss Kurt's horrified face, glaring up at him.

Sam smiled at him and propelled onward.

_You just got your high brows, shoes on your feet._

_And you wear em around like it ain't shh…_

Sam censored himself, eyeing Mr. Schue quickly.

_But you don't know, the way that you look, when you're steps._

_Make._

_That._

_Much._

_Noise_

_Shh._

Sam spun around, putting a finger to his lips.

_I got you all figured out, you need everyone's eyes just to feel seen._

_Behind your makeup, nobody knows who you even are._

_Who do you think that you are?_

Sam sung the chorus, shivers running down his spine when he looked at Kurt.

_You got your high brows, switch in your walk._

_And you don't even look when you pass by._

_But you don't know, the way you that you look when your_

_Steps._

_Make._

_That._

_Much._

_Noise._

_Shh._

_I got you all figured out, you need everyone's eyes just to feel seen._

_Behind your makeup, nobody knows who you even are._

_Who do you think that you are?_

_Cause it sure seems, you got no doubts._

_But we all see, you got your heads in the clouds._

He repeated the chorus again, strumming out the final notes.

The whole club erupted in applause and cheers, running up to pat him on the back.

"That was _insane_!" Mr. Schue said, clapping him on the back. "You did that assignment _perfectly! _That was a great way to start off the assignment." He beamed, the whole club reflecting his smile.

Except for Kurt.

He sat there with an expression of half shock, half horror, and a teensy bit of adoration in there.

Sam grinned at him, winking.

It had worked.

He was breaking down the Ice Princess.

* * *

**Laa. Reviews?**


	6. Extremes

**Oh my goodness. I hate writer's block. And finals. And how school gets in the way of my writing. Blah. Anyway. I'm _so_ sorry that this took forever. Loves and puppies and lots of Kum~**

**Jenna**

**Now...I unveil to you...a kind-of-shortish chapter 6.**

**Whee.**

* * *

Sam let his head fall against the pillow, making a rather loud _thunk_ resonate throughout the room. He had no idea if he had done the right thing. Sure, Kurt looked like he had been affected by the song well enough, but would he take it the right way? Reading Kurt was trying to read a chapter of his Physic's book. Near impossible. The kid was a good actor, but Sam knew that underneath his icy exterior, there was a scarred little boy. He just needed to chip away at his outside just enough to crack him and bring his guard crumbling down. He wanted Kurt for what he was. The soft, squishy Kurt inside of his protective shell. He wanted Kurt, bare and revealed, underneath him. Sam groaned, clutching the pillow and turning over on his face. He had to keep his thoughts at least mildly pure, for his sake and for Kurt's. He was slowly starting to get him to come out of his shell, the last thing he needed was for Sam to act on impulse and jump his bones in the hallway.

Even though that would be _really_ hot.

Sam groaned again, dragging himself out of bed and to the bathroom to douse himself in ice cold water.

**0~*0~*0~*0~***

Kurt stared up at the ceiling, his back pressed to the mattress. His mind was betraying him and was thinking at six million miles an hour. He hated the fact that a whole dam of information was about to burst in his mind. A dam of information that he had so desperately tried to keep at bay for so long, keep in denial.

Could Sam really like him?

_No. Good Gucci you're stupid, Kurt. There are no gays in Lima, except you. You're painfully alone. Nobody is going to like you._

Sometimes he _really_ hated that internal voice.

Kurt closed his eyes, the facts playing behind his lids like a movie. The way he was being so nice to him, the way he so desperately tried to get his attention. The way he clung to him like they were magnets, the way he would go out of his way to make him smile. The way he sat next to him in every class, the way he _never_ paid any attention to any of the girls.

Kurt growled softly to himself, glaring at the wall. Even if the evidence was for Sam liking him, there was always going to be that stupid little sliver of doubt. The part of his brain that was screaming that this was a trap and he was going to get hurt.

He really hated that part of his brain.

He decided, right then, that he was done. Done with being the stupid, careful, scared teenager he had been for his whole life.

There was a guy right in front of him that probably liked him. A sweet, sensitive, funny, hot guy.

Kurt shook his head, laughing.

Sometimes singing did help everything.

**0~*0~*0~*0~***

Sam was awoken the next morning by the oh-so-lovely Milkshake ringtone on his phone. Half-asleep, he answered with a bleary hello.

"Sam?" Kurt's voice was soft, and he could hear the clinking of china in the background.

The blonde shot up like a bullet, going back to bed being the farthest thing from his mind.

"K-Kurt?" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "What's up?"

"Do you think…we could…_FINN!_ For the _LAST TIME _you do _not_ put dish soap in the dishwasher! Do you _want _us to have a house of bubbles! No! It would not be cool! Really? Let's see how _cool_ is when you have to clean it all up!" He could hear Kurt sigh exasperatedly into the receiver. He could almost picture the fierce teen pinching the bridge of his nose and counting to ten slowly. "Sorry…mornings aren't the best times for me…or Finn. Anyway. Can we talk after school today?"

Sam's heart sped up, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. "U-Um..yeah. Sure."

"Great! I'll see you in a bit." Kurt's chipper voice was unmistakable through the phone.

"Mmmhmm…bye." Sam held the phone to his ear even minutes after Kurt hung up, thinking everything over.

_Kurt wanted to talk._

_It had to be about the song._

_He liked it?_

_He didn't like it?_

_He hates me._

_He's going to tell me flat out that he doesn't want me in his life anymore._

_Or that he's in love with me._

_I like that better._

Sam wished he could slap himself. He took a few deep breaths and reviewed the conversation in his head. Kurt had seemed civil enough. It was better than the hostile, icy tone he had been using with him for the past week.

_Maybe he wants to be friends. Just friends._

As much as the 'just friends' part stabbed Sam through the heart, it would have to be better than what he had been getting.

He could always try and win him over later…right?

Sam groaned again, turning over and catching a few more minutes of sleep.

**0~*0~*0~*0~***

Kurt twisted his hands together nervously, the Midwest autumn chill piercing through his thin Armani jacket. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, jumping slightly every time somebody went through the metal doors to the school. Sam was supposed to meet him here at 3:15, and now Kurt was getting worried. He wasn't sure if he was more worried that he'd show up, or that he'd come with a horde of slushie-wielding Neanderthals. His heart almost stopped as he saw the double doors swing open, a familiar blonde head bobbing down the stairs. Kurt pushed his messenger back higher up on his shoulder, clutching the strap tightly.

"Hey…sorry man…Olson needed me to stay after to talk about my grades." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, dropping his backpack in the yellowing grass.

Kurt nodded shortly, licking his lips nervously. "It's fine."

Sam stared at him, leaning against the side of the building. "So...you…wanted to talk?"

Kurt glanced at him, worry evident on his features. He was clearly terrified that he had made a wrong move with the song. Kurt smiled a little and took a deep breath, trying to recall the script he had written out in his mind last night. "Right…look, Sam. I know I've been kind of rude to you…I apologize. As you've probably noticed, I'm not the most popular kid here. I've got jocks breathing down my neck, and not in the good way. I've been stuffed in lockers, tossed in the dumpsters, been a victim of their slushie tossing hobby, and bruised way too many times to be gullible anymore. My self-defense system is up every waking minute when I'm here. I can't afford to let down my guard. My icy and sarcastic side is the only reason I'm still alive. Usually my retorts go over the Neanderthals heads, and by the time they figured it out, I'm long gone." He sighed, looking down at his shoes. "If you knew my past, you would realize why I've been like this to you. I mean, what if you were on _their_ side? I keep thinking that this is all some big joke. That you're trying to get me to fall for you and lure me into some humiliating prank led by Karofsky and Azimo. I can't risk that. When you sang that song, though…I mean…" He shook his head. "You looked pretty sincere. Nobody's…sang to me before. So…I guess it kind of…changed my perspective on things."

Sam blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing often. "Kurt…I…I would _never_—"

"—I know. At least, I hope I know now. That's why I want to start over." Kurt raised his eyes, meeting Sam's.

Sam smiled widely, his face brightening. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Kurt rolled his eyes, smiling. "But first…I really need to straighten some things out." He chuckled under his breath at his pun, brushing his bangs back.

Sam's eyes shifted, sticking his hands in his jacket. "Um…okay. What do you want to know?"

"I think I'll address the giant white elephant here. Your sexuality." Kurt raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, crossing his arms across his chest.

Sam let his head rest against the brick, looking up at the cloudy sky. "I don't know. I mean, I know I like dudes. A lot. But I think some girls are pretty…but I don't know if I'd want to actually _do_ anything with them, y'know?"

Kurt nodded, his eyes softening. "Sam, you don't need a label. You're just you."

"I know."

Kurt sighed, moving to stand next to him. "You like me."

"Yeah." Sam's gaze never left the sky, his face unchanging.

"I admire your persistence. Nobody's liked me before, much less showed it publically by singing about it." Kurt smiled, turning his head to look at Sam.

Sam laughed shortly, his mouth opening in a lazy smile. "Well then screw them. They just don't know that they've got an angel in McKinley."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Angel?"

"Did I really just say that out loud?" He groaned, covering his burning face in his hands. "Word vomit."

Kurt smiled wide, biting his lip. "It was cute."

"It was unbelievably dorky, don't even try to convince me otherwise."

"Okay fine, it _was_ pretty dorky."

They both laughed, watching the leaves fall from the trees.

"I'm sorry if you ever thought that I was out to use you or something." Sam apologized, looking ashamed. "I would never _ever _even dream of doing anything like that."

"I'm sorry I overreacted. You were just a new kid that was looking for a friend." Kurt sighed, looking down at the leaves. "If you knew me, you'd understand."

Sam swallowed, looking at Kurt. "Give me a chance. To know you better."

Kurt shook his head, pulling his coat tighter around him self-consciously. "Sam, I can't. I can't let you do that. That will just lead you to get the same exact crap I do. I'm not going to let you even try to do that. I really, _really_ like you Sam. That's why I'm saying no. I'm not dragging you into this. You're already in Glee. The last thing you need is slushies tossed at your face and daily dumpster dives. Aren't you joining the football team? They'll _destroy_ you."

Sam hooked a finger under Kurt's chin, pulling it up gently to look in his eyes. "Kurt…does it look like I care? I'm pretty sure you're worth it. Heck, you're beyond worth it. I can take those guys."

Kurt looked up into Sam's eyes sadly, shaking his head. "I'm not worth the ridicule. I'm not worth it. I'm not worth the pain, the stained clothing, the _humiliation_…"

Sam eyes darkened, putting his hands on Kurt's small shoulders. "Shut up and listen to me Kurt. I don't _care_ what people think. They can whip slushies at my face. They can shove me, and I'll just shove right back. As long as I'd get to have you, they can bring it,"

Kurt's eyes averted downward, the words dying in his throat. He managed to whisper a soft "Okay.", sending Sam into a flurry of smiles and hugs.

After hearing Sam babble "Thank you" for about two minutes, Kurt clamped a hand over his mouth, forcibly shutting him up.

"Breadsticks. Friday. 7 o'clock. Oh, and I like callas and roses." He winked, removing his hand and walking away.

And just like that, Kurt Hummel was gone, leaving a dazed and overjoyed Sam Evans in his wake.

* * *

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**It's just the crayons I consume.**

**It's totally safe, I swear.**


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